To be perfectly honest, Draco had always wondered what it would be like to kiss Hermione Granger after seeing how beautiful she was at the Yule Ball in their fourth year. He had no idea that it would feel like a static electricity trailing all around his body. He had no idea that all of the hairs on his body would stand on edge and he would no idea that she would reciprocate.
Hermione initially froze from the shock of it all, but eventually the intoxication of his lips caused her to succumb to his influence; she closed her eyes and let him continue without thinking of the consequences. She forgot that she was supposed to strongly dislike him. She forgot that he had called her countless names and all she seemed to know about Draco Malfoy was the touch of his lips on her own.
Bodies entwined on Blaise Zabini’s bed, they continued, until Hermione finally came back to herself. She pried herself away from him and fell down onto the floor.
“We can’t do this!” she screeched.
“What? Why not?” Draco asked, breathing hard.
“Why? You’re asking me why? I’ll tell you why! You’re you, that’s why.”
“You’re Draco Malfoy. And… and I’m Hermione Granger.”
“Glad you’ve worked that out.”
“Stop it!” she shouted. “You know what I mean. I don’t know what I thought I was doing.”
“You were having a good time. Loosen up, Granger.”
“Loosen up?” She crawled to the other side of the room. “I thought that you…why did you…? But, even after last night…”
“So what, I gave you a blanket. Big deal.”
“Seemed like much more at the time. You looked…embarrassed.”
“Of course I wasn’t,” he lied. “I have been known to be nice.” Hermione laughed. “Haven’t I just proved that?”
“No. You proved that you can be cunning and manipulative. I wouldn’t have kissed you even if my life depended on it yet I just did.”
“I guess you don’t know your own strength,” he shrugged.
“You got that right. I was stronger than I thought being able to last more than five seconds with you near me.”
“From where I was standing it took a lot of strength for you to pull away from me.”
Hermione was silent. “You’re putting on this front, Draco, like usual. You’re acting as though you don’t care about my feelings and that you’re just kissing me because you can but I saw the way you looked at me last night.”
“I don’t care about your feelings,” he said defiantly.
Hermione shook her head. “Fine.”
Draco stretched out. “That wasn’t a great kiss anyway.” Hermione knew he felt otherwise. “I doubt I’ll be asking for another one because -”
“Be quiet.” Hermione crept near the door. “Do you hear that?”
Distant explosions could be heard. They sounded far away yet they were deceptively close. Forgetting his sentence, Draco dashed by the door and listened intently.
“They’re trying to get in,” he whispered while his heartbeat thumped on harder.
“But they won’t will they? You said yourself, common rooms are protected by additional magic.”
“They know we’re in here. They’ll find a way.” He got up and paced the room. “It shouldn’t be long. Another five minutes at least.”
“What will we do?” Hermione said while clutching her wand.
Draco pulled his out of his pocket and looked around. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“How? The only way out is through the common room.”
“Not quite.” Draco pointed to the window nearest his bed.
“You’re not serious?” He nodded. “We’re under the lake!”
“At least we’re not high on a rooftop somewhere like the Gryffindor common room.”
“So you’re suggesting that we flood your dorm?”
“We’ve got no choice.”
There was a huge explosion which shook the room and made Hermione scream. She knew that it was the wrong thing to do when multiple footsteps could be heard mounting the staircase to the dormitory.
Immediately Draco pointed his wand at the window and yelled, “Bombarda!” The glass would not break but it wobbled. “Help me!”
They both pointed their wands at the window as the door smashed open and Draco saw the face of his Aunt and her husband at the door.
“BOMBARDA MAXIMA!” Draco and Hermione shouted.
As the glass shattered and tumults of fresh water fell through the window, it knocked everybody off their feet. Curses from the Lestrange’s wands were sent off target. Draco flew over his bed from the force of it but held onto the four poster’s green curtains as water gushed over him. Hermione, however, had been washed straight into the path of the death eaters.
The room was nearly half full when she emerged, trying to get away at a half run while the room continued to fill.
Draco emerged too and shouted, “Get down!”
Hermione fell back into the water to avoid a Stunning spell from Rodolphus. Draco shot one back at him causing him to fall into the water as stiff as a statue. Draco dragged Hermione out of the water while a small shield charm was working between them and Bellatrix, who was ranting behind it.
“You stupid little boy! How dare you run from me! Your own family! You will see. You will see what happens when you betray your own blood…!”
Hermione and Draco swan upwards; the room was nearly full. Bellatrix had reversed the Stunning spell on her husband and they were both coming towards them fast. Draco felt hot air skim his leg as Bellatrix fired a spell at them beneath the water.
Draco put his wand in his pocket, took a deep breath (Hermione did the same) and felt for the window frame. He grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled them both out of it and began kicking through the water as he had never kicked before.
The swimming seemed endless, as though the surface would never arrive. He could tell that Hermione was getting tired as her arms were barely moving. He could see it… the daylight was near. He turned and held Hermione around her middle and then pushed her upwards so that she could breathe again. He soon joined her as she spluttered and choked on the cool afternoon breeze. Shivering, they made their way to the edge of the lake.
“Th-thank you,” Hermione said.
Draco nodded and collapsed on the bank. His muscles were aching.
“Come on,” Hermione muttered.
She led him into Hagrid’s cabin, which was a short walk away from where they had emerged. They enclosed themselves inside.
“They’ll know we’re still here so we can’t stay for long,” she explained. “Just for the night maybe. I’m guessing that everyone Disapparated out from the Great Hall. We won’t be able to get out though the front gates because the enchantments are still up.”
The door was bolted shut behind them. Draco looked around, scowling. “Nice,” he muttered.
Hermione said nothing and began looking through cupboards for food and drinks. She poured two large cups of milk and joined Draco at the table. She wasn’t about to hand out Hagrid’s killer rock cakes.
“You’re bleeding.” She jumped to her feet and touched his shoulder.
“Oh.” Draco noticed the long shard of glass that was stuck into his arm, leaking blood.
She pulled off his shirt, looking heatedly over his chest. Hermione dipped a cloth in warm water and then in gin. With a flick of her wand, the glass shot out of his arm (“Bloody hell, Granger!”). She quickly dabbed his wound with the cloth while he stared in the opposite direction to where she sat holding his arm.
After minutes of silence, Hermione ripped up one of Hagrid’s shirts and wrapped it around Draco’s wound. She silently treated the rest of the injuries; he had scratches on his nose and arms, a burn on his thigh, while she had a bruise on her leg and a gash across her cheek.
They were drenched through and through, so after much contemplation, they ended up sat in their underwear while Hermione dried the clothes with her wand. Draco was sat on Hagrid’s bed watching her as her hair fell over her shoulder while she kneeled on the ground, going over his jeans and shirt slowly with warm air. She was wearing mismatching underwear; a pink striped bra and black knickers. She had thrown her shoe aside as she had lost the other in the lake and Draco chuckled to himself at her green painted toenails.
Sunset was arriving and less light came through the windows of the cabin. They had closed and locked every window and door, in case somebody came along while they were asleep. There was no candlelight nor firelight for the same reasons; they were fully immersed in darkness.
After the clothes had dried, Hermione - at breakneck speed - pulled Draco’s school shirt and her skirt back on while he pulled on his trousers.
He hopped off the bed. “I think that we should go back into the castle.”
“That will be where they won’t expect us to be. The first place they’ll look for us is out here. Also, if anyone comes to rescue us, they’ll look inside first.”
“I suppose,” Hermione answered anxiously. “What about your Aunt?”
“What about her?” Draco tried to throw off his fear.
“She looked mad.”
“She always looks mad.”
Hermione knew that he was worried but decided to leave her comments until they had slept. “I hope we can get back in safely without them noticing.”
“We’ll think of something in the morning.” He drank his glass of milk and then sat in the chair. “The bed’s all yours.”
“And I thought that you weren’t a gentleman…” Hermione rolled up onto the high bed carefully. “There’s plenty of room, you know.” Hagrid was a big guy and the bed was exceptionally wide.
He looked up at her cautiously. “You sure you’re not afraid that I might manipulate you again?”
Hermione settled for, “I just don’t think it would be right if I leave you on a hard wooden chair all night after you saved my life.”
“Fair enough.” Draco jumped onto the bed and laid at the bottom, while Hermione rested at the top, nearest the stone wall.
Hermione closed her eyes for a while and Draco glanced over, staring at her. When she opened her eyes, he looked away but the glow on his cheeks gave him away.
She stifled a smile, but he saw it.
He looked at her again, something more than curiosity guiding him in her direction; he could see straight through the shirt she was wearing - his shirt.
Hermione rolled over but Draco was not sure that was because she caught him looking.
She could not help it. Hermione was grinning into the musty pillow she was leaning against. What was it about him that she suddenly found attractive? Only yesterday, she was dreading spending an hour a day in his company. Now she could not get enough of him. She relished in their stolen glances and secret smiles. It seemed that because Ron was so far away - all the way on the other side of the country - her feelings for him seemed to disappear also.
“I couldn’t find a bad thing to say about you at the Yule Ball.”
“What?” She rolled onto her back once more and stared into his grey eyes.
“I couldn’t say anything about the way you looked…because you looked perfect.”
Her insides squirmed a little. “And why are you choosing to compliment me now? After all these years of hatred and distrust.”
“I never hated you, Hermione.” She sighed as he reverted to using her first name. “I hated your talents. I hated the fact that I’d never be able to like you because my family forbade that kind of thing.”
“What kind of thing?”
“You know…you’re a mudblood.”
Anger came over her face. “Right.” She rolled over.
“No…I’m sorry. Muggleborn. I’m so used to saying it that it’s imprinted itself in my vocabulary. I can’t help it.” Hermione’s mouth was still clamped shut as she examined a cobweb on the wall. “I mean, I was so jealous of you, being so smart and I thought that because of your parents, you could never be as good as I was, but I was wrong.”
Hermione sniffed. “It’s not your fault that your upbringing was improper.”
“No, I suppose it’s not.” Draco sat up. “Do you forgive me?”
Hermione sat up and laughed. “You didn’t even apologise!”
All of a sudden, she was not smiling any more. Draco was staring at her so profusely that she was forced to stare back with the same intensity. His mouth twitched a little and that was when she knew what was coming. When she thought that he was about to touch her, she was slightly taken aback to find that it was her own hand snaking to the back of his neck.
Draco could barely focus on breathing. He was inches, centimetres away from Hermione Granger’s lips and would be kissing her again, for the second time in a day. This was taking a long time, he had to admit. Her fingers were roaming through his hair while she looked over the angles of his face. He did the same. While his fingers pressed against her waist, he glanced over her brown eyes, her eyebrows, her petite nose, her rosy lips, the cut on her cheek. Just the fact that they were holding each other, anticipating their kiss, was so much more exhilarating than the real thing.
He moved slightly closer. She was breathing on him, waiting. Draco felt as if he was going to have a heart attack and he knew that there was only one way to stop his heart beating so fiercely.
But he decided against it.
He pulled her into him, squeezing her tight, kissing her slowly. He wanted this to last. Who knew what would happen? Who knew if the death eaters would catch them? Would they ever be rescued? At this specific moment in time, Draco did not care. He could feel her heartbeat pounding against him as if it were his own. His attraction towards her was growing stronger by the second. The more that he could taste her, the more that he liked her.
Hermione shook with delight and pulled away from him. “You’re Draco Malfoy,” she breathed jaggedly.
He smiled. “You’re Hermione Granger. And I couldn’t care less.”
His lips touched hers tenderly and softly; he was taking his time to enjoy himself.
Hermione stared into his open eyes, at every single blond eyelash; the connection between them was so strong that it was hard not to look back. After a few minutes, she could not help herself. She closed her eyes so that she could focus solely on his touch. Who knew that this would happen inside the very hut that she had visited on countless occasions?
Draco gave her one last kiss and grinned.
Hermione grinned back shyly and laid down on the bed. The last thing that she noticed before she fell asleep was Draco lying down beside her with his arm finding its way around her middle.